


Good Things Come (In Ways We Don't Expect)

by Starchild (DouxAnge)



Series: Bats According to Stars [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Eternally bad at tags, Jason does his best, No Beta, Sibling Rivalry, bruce needs a break, i'm trying guys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29701614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DouxAnge/pseuds/Starchild
Summary: Bruce brought in another kid, the others are not amused.Jason is a good bro.
Series: Bats According to Stars [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2173989
Kudos: 8





	Good Things Come (In Ways We Don't Expect)

There is absolutely no reason for Bruce to have gotten another kid. Between Demon and I’s war, the bullshit going on between Bruce and Selina, and Tim’s mental state, the man has no time to take in yet another traumatized child. The whisper of Damian’s glove over my ear is what snaps me back. Demon lands a kick to my ribs, but I manage to curl around his leg and keep the momentum going. The older teen hits the mats with a grunt, glaring up at me. 

“I loathe to remember that one day, you will reproduce,” he sneers, picking himself back up. 

“I could always pull a Playboy and adopt random kids off the street,” I counter, uncapping a water bottle and taking a sip. 

“Such a disgraceful way of addressing Father. You should be ashamed of yourself, Streetrat.” I make a face and earn a growl in response. The door clicking open has both of us whipping around to face...someone. 

A kid, no more than nine. He looks just as surprised to see us as we are to see him. He mumbles something in a language that is definitely not English. He shifts awkwardly, clearly debating whether to stay or leave. Demon smiles at the kid, who freezes like a deer in a spotlight. With a stiff nod, the boy slips out of the room and disappears. I share an odd look with Demon before placing the water bottle back on the floor. I take up my stance again, only to be interrupted again by Bruce. He flings open the back door, a panicked expression on his face. He looks from Damian to me, then scans the room.

“Have you seen Richard come through here?” he asks, more out of breath than I would have guessed. 

“A minute or two ago, yeah. He peeked in here for a second and then left. Why?” 

“He skipped out of afternoon lessons and we can’t find him. I was afraid he snuck out,” Bruce states, not any calmer than before. 

“I’ll find him,” I state, already moving towards the door. 

The Manor has so many more rooms when you’re actively looking for someone, I swear. I’ve never had this much trouble navigating it in all the time I’ve been here. I careen around a corner and run smack into Tim, who yelps and twists around in an effort to save his camera. My brother falls face-first onto the floor, arms bent at an awkward angle to keep his camera from hitting. He glares at me as I pull him to his feet. I smile apologetically before shooting off down the hallway again.

It takes close to an hour, but I do eventually find the kid. He’s lounging across one of the chandeliers in an old sitting room. He glares at me as I walk in, shifting around like a cat to keep me in view without looking in my direction. I sigh and throw myself down on the rug. 

We sit in silence for a long while, the grandfather clock a few rooms over ticking by the seconds. The quiet makes me fidget, so I pull the loop of string from around my neck and settle in to do some Cat’s Cradle. I’m not very good at it, but I can make a few basic shapes. With a spiderweb on my fingers, I fall to my back and smile up at the boy watching me. He gives a hesitant grin in response.

“Want me to show you something cool?” I ask. He nods, shifting to get a better view of me. “You have to come down here then.” When he doesn’t move, I shrug and go back to making random shapes. It takes all of three seconds before I hear a soft ‘thump’ from beside me. 

“Show me?” I smile to myself and turn to face him. 

“This string right here is going to become a witch’s broom,” I whisper, leaning in and smiling devilishly at him as I work the string into the proper position. The kid looks at me like I hung the moon and the stars when I show him which strand to pull, creating the desired shape.

Alfred finds us shortly after that, cackling on the floor and making shapes out of string. 

Maybe Playboy bringing this kid in wasn’t such a bad thing after all.


End file.
